Twenty Wishes (Blossom Street #5)

Twenty Wishes (Blossom Street #5) Page 45

True, Barbie thought; she hadn’t made a secret of how she felt about Mark.

“We’re just finishing our meal.” Anne Marie led them to the table littered with the remains of their dinner. They’d evidently ordered hamburgers and fries.

“Anne Marie and I signed up for karate lessons,” Ellen explained, her excitement unmistakable.

“Karate?” Barbie repeated. “How come?”

“It’s on my list.”

“And I decided I might as well join her,” Anne Marie said.

“We already had one lesson. We’re going to the karate place right after we have our drinks.” She pointed at a carton of chocolate milk.

“Karate, huh? I wouldn’t want to meet either of you alone in a dark alley,” Mark teased. “I can picture it now. You’ll warn me off by telling me you’ve had two—count ’em, two—karate lessons. I’ll be shaking in my boots.”

Ellen giggled.

Barbie noticed that Mark was grinning, too. He so rarely showed any emotion, and it pleased her to know he liked her friends. But then, she’d predicted that he would.

Mark turned to Anne Marie. “You’re the one who started this Twenty Wishes business.”

“Four of us—all widows—came up with the idea together,” Anne Marie said.

“Do you have any wishes?” Ellen asked him.

“Yes, indeed,” Mark said. “Several.”

“Have you ever made a list?”

“I can’t say I have, Ellen. Do you recommend it?”

“Oh, yes,” Ellen returned seriously. “It’s helpful if you have a real list. Otherwise you might forget.”

“That’s true,” Mark concurred.

“Your heart has to let your head know what it wants,” the child added.

“You sound very wise for one so young,” Mark said, raising his eyebrows. “Where did you learn this?”

“Anne Marie told me. It’s true, too. I didn’t even know how much I wanted a mom until I put it on my list of Twenty Wishes.”

“You wrote that down?” Anne Marie asked, apparently surprised by this revelation.

Ellen nodded, her eyes downcast.

“You never showed me that.”

“I know,” the girl said. “I wrote your name in pencil beside my wish ’cause if I could choose my own mom, I wanted you.”

Anne Marie slid her arm around Ellen. “If I could have any little girl in the world, it would be you.”

“Anne Marie’s adopting Ellen,” Barbie explained for Mark’s benefit.

“We’d better scoot.” Anne Marie smiled. “Like Ellen said, we’re on our way to karate.”

“Karate Kid and Mom, the sequel,” Barbie joked.

“After that, we’re going to see Melissa and help her work on wedding plans,” Ellen said excitedly.

“That’s my stepdaughter,” Anne Marie told Mark.

“I might get to be in the wedding! Melissa said she needs a little girl to help serve the cake and Anne Marie said what about Ellen and Melissa said she thought that was a good idea.”

“I think it’s a grand idea myself.” Barbie knew the difficult relationship Anne Marie had with her stepdaughter and was delighted by the way things had changed.

They left, and Barbie sat down in one of the chairs vacated by her friends. “So,” she murmured, “you only had eyes for me last March, huh?” She reached for a leftover French fry and dipped it in ketchup.

Mark avoided her gaze. “I didn’t think you’d let that pass.”

“That was just the third time we met.” If it took all night, she’d force him to admit how he felt about her.

“And?”

“And you’re crazy about me,” she insisted.

“I already told you I’m willing to go along for the ride, however long it lasts.” His voice didn’t betray a hint of sentiment.

“Monday-night movies.”

He shrugged casually. “Sure.”

“Lap swims on Tuesday and Thursdays.”

He sloughed that off, as well. “We could both use the exercise.”

“Dinner at my house tonight.”

He hesitated. “Sure. Why not?”

Barbie took a crumpled hamburger wrapper and smoothed it out. Then with the ketchup-dipped fry, she drew a heart. “What am I getting out of this relationship?” she asked in conversational tones. “So far, I seem to be the one doing all the giving.”

Mark tensed. “I’ve asked myself that from the start. I told you anytime you want out, all you need to do is say the word.”

“Just like that?” she asked and snapped her fingers.

“Just like that,” Mark echoed, snapping his own.

“No regrets?”

“None,” he assured her.

“No explanations?”

He shook his head.

“No looking back, either.”

“Not on my end.”

“What if that isn’t enough for me?” she asked.

His face tightened and his eyes went hard. “Let’s clear the air right now.”

“Fine by me.”

“Exactly what do you want from me?” he demanded, none too gently.

Taking the same French fry, she scribbled out the heart. This discussion wasn’t one she’d intended to have and yet she couldn’t stop herself. Her pulse raced. She was afraid that by pressuring him for a response she’d put everything on the line. She’d chosen the one sure way to lose Mark.

“I’m not sure what I want,” she replied, unable to look at him.

“Yes, you are,” he countered, “otherwise we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”

“My list of wishes…” she said, and her voice faltered.

“Oh, yes, those Twenty Wishes you and your friends have.” His tone had a mocking quality, which made her furious.

“You might think they’re silly, but they’re not!” she insisted.

“I didn’t say they were,” he said calmly. He could be so difficult to talk to sometimes. Squaring her shoulders, she met his eyes. “Okay, I’ll tell you what I want.”

“Good. I was hoping you would.”

He wouldn’t like this. The truth would probably scare him off. Still, it was a risk Barbie had to take. “I want to be loved,” she said. There, it was out.

“By me?” he asked.

“You’re the one I love.” She might as well go for broke, and he could either reject her right now or accept her.

For a long time Mark didn’t say anything, and when he did, regret weighted each word. “I don’t want to love you,” he said slowly.

So that was how it was going to be.

Barbie swallowed painfully. Hard as it was, she’d rather he was honest. “Thank you for not leading me on,” she managed to say through quivering lips. She stood up to leave.

Mark caught her hand. “I don’t want to love you,” he repeated, “but I do.”

“You love me?” She could hardly believe it, yet she knew it was true. He let his love shine from his eyes and his fingers tightened around hers.

“I have practically from the first moment I saw you at that theater.”

“You tried to kick me out, remember?”

“That’s because you scared me to death,” he said wryly. “But regardless of what I said or did, you wouldn’t go away.”

She offered him a shaky smile and sat back down, dragging her chair close to him, their knees touching.

“Then before I knew it,” Mark muttered, his eyes closed, “I was dreaming about you.”

Barbie savored every word.

“For the first time since the accident, I’d wake up each morning with a sense of…hope. I’d go to the movies and hope you’d stay away and at the same time, I’d hope you’d show up—and then I’d curse myself for being so stupid. Acting like that, I was just looking for more heartache.”

Breathless, Barbie didn’t trust herself to speak. This was everything she’d craved, everything she wanted to hear.

“I’m grateful you came into my life,” Mark said and all his intensity was focused on her. “I can’t say it any plainer than that.”

“You mean forced my way into your life, don’t you?”

He laughed and then grew serious again. “You want my heart? You’ve got it, Barbie. You’ve had it all along.” Then he did something completely out of character. Reaching for the paper crown left behind by a birthday group, he placed it on his head and leaned over to kiss her.

Barbie leaned back and stared at him as a chill raced down her arms. With tears blinding her eyes, she held both hands to her lips. Despite all her efforts, she doubled over and started to weep.

“Barbie?” Mark touched her back. “What’s wrong?”

She straightened and noticed that the paper crown sat crookedly on his head. Her wish. She’d wanted to be kissed by a prince. She’d known it was a ridiculous request—yet it had been fulfilled.

Mark was her prince. He loved her.

And she loved him.

Slipping her arms around his shoulders, she hugged him with such exuberance she nearly toppled his wheelchair. “I’m going to love you for the rest of my life.”

“I certainly hope so,” he muttered. “Now do you think we can get out of here?”

“What’s the matter? Is the aroma of those burgers getting to you and weakening your resolve?”

“The only thing getting to me is you. I think it’s time you showed me what you learned on the Internet.”

Her eyes widened. Mark didn’t need to remind her what she’d looked up weeks ago.

All she needed to know was that he loved her.

As much as she loved him.

Everything else they’d figure out with a little inventiveness and a lot of time.

Chapter 32

Thursday afternoon, Anne Marie waited for her pulse to slow before she called Robert’s office. Even after nearly two years, the number was ingrained in her memory.

Anne Marie knew she finally had to see Rebecca Gilroy. She didn’t want to show up without warning, so she’d decided to phone Robert’s assistant and make a formal appointment first.

She had to know the truth before she could put this behind her—or at least in perspective.

Was the child Robert’s? If so, she wondered why Rebecca hadn’t come forward. Robert’s son deserved part of his estate, was entitled to an inheritance. Despite the circumstances, that was only right.

Her heart in her throat, she made the call. A moment later, she heard Rebecca’s voice.

“This is Rebecca Gilroy. How may I help you?” The young woman, now presumably an assistant to one of the other partners, sounded businesslike and professional.

Anne Marie took a deep breath. “Hello, Rebecca,” she said, speaking quickly. “It’s Anne Marie Roche, Robert’s wife.”

Rebecca’s tone softened instantly. “Anne Marie, of course. How are you?”

“Better.” Which was true. “What about you?”